


All the Kisses

by MaddieStilinski



Category: Friends (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Awkward Kissing, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Pack Meetings, Platonic Kissing, Secret Relationship, based on a friends episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieStilinski/pseuds/MaddieStilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles presses a kiss onto Derek’s mouth, sweet and short, a promise for later. ‘See you at the meeting.’</p>
<p>Then he slips out the front door, leaving Derek to try and imagine a time when kissing Stiles wouldn’t be the highlight of his day</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tumblr prompt based on the Friends episode 'The One With All The Kissing.'
> 
> Hope you like! Let mw know what you think in the comments- I love hearing what you guys have to say!

‘Hey, fucknugget, time to wake up.’

Stiles leans against the doorframe, flicks the light on and off until Derek groans and rolls over. He’s already dressed, exchanging one of Derek’s Henleys for the spare clothes he brought in his overnight bag. The sight of it kicks something raw in Derek’s gut.

‘Is it eight already?’ he frowns at the clock next to the bed.

‘’fraid so, grumpy,’ Stiles says, flicking the light again for good measure.

Derek growls low in his throat, which anyone else would find at least a little intimidating. Stiles just laughs.

‘Don’t be like that,’ he says. ‘It’s not _my fault_ that fairy kicked your ass.’

Then he saunters back into the living room, laughing to himself the whole way to the kitchen.

 

Derek sighs. Stiles does have a point. It’s not entirely his fault that Derek got his ass kicked. But it is at least half way his fault. It was _Stiles’_ idea to go into the woods. It was probably more Derek’s fault that they stumbled into a fairy nest mid-fumble.

‘My ass was kicked for the greater good,’ Derek grumbles, following Stiles into the kitchen.

Stiles smirks over his coffee. ‘Yeah? What was that?’

‘To save _your_ sorry ass.’

‘Fair assessment,’ Sties says. ‘Or it would be if I wasn’t the one who got rid of her.’

Derek grumbles, and leans against the counter, accepting the mug Stiles nudges his way. ‘It was a team effort,’ Derek mutters.

Stiles beams his private, affectionate smile, huffs a laugh. ‘Sure thing, big guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.’

 

They fall into silence for a second, Stiles browsing a magazine left open on the table, Derek watching him over his cup. It’s surprisingly domestic. Derek likes it. A lot. This whole thing he has with Stiles now, it’s so- nice. It didn’t start like this, but somehow it’s fallen into place, and it just works. Derek feels genuinely happy with Stiles here, in his kitchen like he belongs, like he came as part of the furniture. Derek’s pretty sure he’ll never get tired of seeing Stiles’ shoes scattered by the door, or his hoodie thrown over the back of the couch.

‘So how’re we going to play this?’ Stiles asks casually, not looking up from the magazine. ‘You want me to be late, or do you want to do the honours?’

Of course, Derek hasn’t had much time to think about how they’re going to break it to the others.

‘I’ll go early,’ Derek says, dropping his cup into the sink. ‘I have to leave early anyway.’

‘Right,’ Stiles replies, jumping up. ‘Gives me time to shower.’

Derek fights back the whine that builds in the back of his throat, huffs instead. ‘You’re gonna come back tonight though, right?’ He misses out the rest of the question, _‘so we can shower together?’_

Stiles gets up, smile paying at the corner of his mouth. He leans into Derek, pats his chest gently. ‘I’ll come back as many nights as you want.’

He presses a kiss onto Derek’s mouth, sweet and short, a promise for later. ‘See you at the meeting.’

Then he slips out the front door, leaving Derek to try and imagine a time when kissing Stiles wouldn’t be the highlight of his day.

***

Things were going so well.

Derek and Stiles had managed to keep their relationship a secret for a whole month, which, given that ninety percent of their friends are walking lie detectors, is a pretty phenomenal feat. It was sneaky and a little hap-hazard, but it was theirs and Derek liked it that way. He would have been prepared to keep it that way for the next forever. That is, if he hadn’t been punch drunk on the promise of another night with Stiles.

‘I should go,’ he says halfway through the pack meeting. ‘I’ve got a thing.’

‘See ya, Derek,’ Erica says casually, not taking her eyes off the TV. She presses a button, and something explodes behind the screen.

‘Fuck, Erica!’ Isaac whines. ‘I was so close that time!’

‘Unlucky, scarf boy,’ she replies happily, then points at Scott, ‘You’re next.’

‘Try me,’ Scott says, furiously pressing buttons. ‘Boyd, go round! Round!’

Boyd rolls his eyes, nods in Derek’s direction, then turns and follows Scott’s instructions.

Derek laughs and shakes his head, then turns to Stiles, who’s watching the game from the next couch over

‘Bye, you,’ Derek murmurs, hand finding the base of Stiles’ neck, thumb rubbing across his back. 

‘Bye,’ Stiles replies, smiling sweetly. He tilts his face up towards Derek, who presses a kiss onto his cheek. ‘See you later.’

They both freeze.

 

Around them, the video game’s still playing, but no one’s paying attention any more. Erica’s mouth is open around something she was about to say. From the floor, Allison stops painting Lydia’s toenail mid-nail. Scott drops his controller on Isaac’s foot.

‘Err,’ Stiles chokes, turning away. He clears his throat loudly. ‘So anyway. See you later, Derek!’

And that’s when Derek knows they’re screwed. Stiles’ heart rate is through the roof, and he doesn’t need a mirror to know how red he is.

So he does the only thing he can think to salvage their situation. He kisses Erica.

He goes for the cheek, swooping in dramatically to give plenty of warning, but true to form, Erica spins at the last second and goes straight for his mouth, moaning loudly as she deepens the kiss.

When Derek manages to pull away, she sighs and says, ‘Not quite how I imagined round two, Der-Bear, but I’ll take it.’

Stiles’ eyebrows climb so high they almost leave the room. ‘What do you mean round-?’

‘Bye you three!’ Derek says desperately, pulling Boyd, Isaac and Scott into an awkward four-way hug. He kisses each of them on the head, holding tight when they try to wriggle away.

‘Ask a dude,’ Isaac says, wrinkling his nose. ‘I bruise like a peach.’

‘Screw peaches,’ Scott says, mortified. ‘I’m fragile full stop.’

Stiles sighs. ‘Scott, you’re an Alpha.’

‘ _Emotionally_ fragile you insensitive jerk!’

‘What the hell are you even-?’

 

Before their squabble turns into a full on wrestling match (it’s happened before), Derek turns on Allison and Lydia, who eye him with equal parts fear and intrigue.

‘Most people have to take me to dinner before they get anything out of me,’ Lydia says, flicking her hair behind her back. ‘So be a gentleman and don’t smudge my lipgloss.’

Cheeks burning, Derek ducks and presses his lips against her cheek, barely touching her before pulling away.

Then, he turns to Allison, who’s entire body is rigid.

‘If you’re gonna do it, make it quick,’ she says, screwing her eyes shut. 

Derek almost wants to laugh at how un-Argent like that is, but it sort of gets lost in the moment of _kissing the entire pack_ , so he doesn’t focus on it too much. He barely brushes her cheek before straightening up again.

 

‘You gonna kiss Jackson too?’ Erica asks. ‘Because if you are I’d like some warning. I _really_ wanna catch that on camera.

‘I’m not kissing Jackson,’ Derek growls, glaring at her. ‘Where is he anyway?’

And of course that’s the exact moment he comes back into the room.

‘There he is!’ Erica laughs, dancing up and down on the couch. ‘Just in time!’

Jackson frowns, slips his phone back into his pocket. ‘In time for what?’ he asks. ‘If it’s Twister again, I’m leaving.’

Derek assess his options: he can keep his pride and tell everyone the truth, or kiss Jackson. But since his pride’s already shot to hell, he’s got nothing to lose.

To his credit, Jackson only half flinches when Derek grabs his face and plants a huge smacking kiss on it. It’s quick and unpleasant, and it’s made worse by the fact that Jackson actually looks a little less murderous than before.

He blinks twice, clears his throat, straightens his jacket. ‘You should talk to Danny, Hale. Your technique is shocking.’

And if that’s not a queue to get the fuck out of there, Derek doesn’t know what is. Leaving Jackson to take his vacant place on the couch, Derek bolts for the door, damn near sprints to his car.

 

He gets halfway to his next meeting before his phone buzzes. It’s a text from Stiles that reads, _Your technique seems fine to me._

If Derek smiles for the rest of the day, well, that’s another story.


End file.
